Shackles and Blades
by endlessly wandering
Summary: because sometimes, life becomes too much and you're left with nothing but shackles on your heart and blades across your skin. Rated T. Sequel to Insanity.
1. How It Started

**welcome, everyone, to the second book of Insanity. This book is going to be a lot more focused on our background characters; meaning Soda, Kat, Molly, Two-Bit, Steve and even Darry will get a spotlight. But don't worry: Pony's gonna have some love too.**

* * *

 **How It Started**

You don't remember how you got here. You don't remember what drove you so insane, so animalistic that you ended up here. Ending up in shackles – in an grotesque orange jumpsuit – was not on your list of things to do before you die.

 _Perhaps I'll die here,_ you think to yourself as you settle yourself on the familiar creaking mattress. It bends under your weight, and it groans just about as much as your stomach does tonight. You haven't eaten all day; there was no time for hunger or complaints as you were forced into that damn room with those damn cops and those two damn people –

You stop; pause. Stare up at the ceiling with your hands behind your head and one leg thrown over the other. Those two people, with dark eyes and slicked back hair…

It floods back to you now; seeing their tired and worried eyes settled on yours, their voices just as worrisome. Watching them talk and move in sadness, rage, and even calm never phased you; watching them get angry, scream in your face and plead with you never, ever phased you.

You know them; you can't recall how, but you know them.

You're going insane here. Everything you used to have, everything you used to love...they've taken from you –

no, they've taken you from everything you used to have; everything you used to love. But there's nothing that can be done; nothing left now. Nothing but your steady heartbeat, your powerful emotions, and the insanity that keeps you company.

There's nothing left but darkness now; darkness you call home.

Even now, as you lay here on this old mattress, you can't forget the bitterness that raged through his heart at the sound of your nickname. The nickname that made you seem just the smallest bit strong.

 _Superman._ That kid...

Just like the superhero, you helped others in need before yourself. And just like the superhero, you're completely and utterly alone.

The word echoes in your mind, the voice accompanying it. That voice was familiar; you know it from somewhere. You're not sure where, but somewhere, at the very back of your already deteriorating mind, you know that voice.

 _That kid…_ A cold wave passes through your body as the image materializes in your mind. Those soft eyes, frightened and calm in the same moment. The way the kid's body trembled at seeing you, the way the kids voice shook when he was trying to sound tough. Everything and anything the kid happened to do is just here, settling on your chest as you fight to remember who it was.

 _Tomorrow's a new day…_ you remind yourself as you slip down, down, down into the unconsciousness that has awaited you all day long.

And for some reason, you wake up remembering nothing at all.


	2. Chapter 1

**I've decided that Darry will be featured in every other chapter or so.** **So, for this chapter, it'll be Pony then Darry, followed by Soda then Darry, and so on.**

Chapter 1:

Coping

 _ **Ponyboy**_

Not for the first time, I wake in a warm room yet in a freezing cold body.

It's not the worst I've ever felt. There was the time, about a month ago, where I got full blown drunk and had to call Soda to fetch him from wherever the hell I was at the time. There was a time, about two weeks ago, where I threw a few punches and received a few kicks to the gut during a brawl between me and another stupid, know-it-all punk.

And then there was last night.

I can't recall most of what happened; it's all hazy inside of my head, just like most things. There's a moment, however, that rushes back to me the minute I rise from the bed, almost as if I'm back there.

* * *

 _Johnny's grave, with a bottle of scotch in his hand. The glass is broken; sliced his hand, too, but the pain doesn't phase him. Tears are running down his face, hitting the already dark gray slab of stone sitting before him, staining it with blackened splotches. He's bleeding into the dirt below his knees; he's about ready to ram his head into the gravestone in the hopes of dying but knows it wouldn't do anyone any good._

 _It's been months – months – since he's felt this way. Why now, of all times, is his mind throwing a curve ball at him?_

 _He doesn't have time to answer that, for as soon as he starts to open his mouth, his brother's there. His brother – his gentle yet strong brother, Soda – is there, cursing in the wind and growing closer to him with each passing beat of his heart._

 _Then, like a force of nature beyond all expectations, the pain hits him. It burns; it burns in his hand, in his arm, and through his entire body. It passes through his blood, makes its way all the way to his lungs, to his heart –_

 _and then it just sits there. Waiting for him to rip – to claw, to score – at his chest so that the pain ceases to exist. So that he ceases to exist._

 _"Pony, what –" Soda's voice is in his ear, but it's slow – sluggish – like time has slowed down. "– what've you done?"_

 _"I..." he tries to speak, but the words seem to fall through his teeth._

 _"Shit, kid," Soda breathes, taking_ sight _of his glass-bitten hand, "You're bleeding."_

 _"I don't know," he finally manages, and for the first time in a while, he actually feels out of control. "I don't know."_

 _"You don't know how you got here?"_

 _He shakes his head. The world blurs, and he leans forward to press the top of his head on the gravestone._

 _"You don't know what happened?"_

 _Another shake._

 _"Jesus Christ, Ponyboy," Soda curses, and there's a pause as he sniffs the air, "Are you drunk?"_

 _"I don't know."_

 _Soda sighs roughly, and there's suddenly something pressing down on his hand, turning the white surface a dark red. "Well," he huffs in clear annoyance, "you smell like you've been in a bar, so I'd say yes."_

 _He doesn't respond for a moment. "What're you doing?"_

 _"Trying to get your hand to stop bleeding," Soda states sharply. "Because, you know, you cut it open and whatnot."_

 _"I just ended up here," he starts, "I was at home, with you and with Steve..."_

 _"I know," Soda's voice calms, and when he looks to his brother, Soda's dark gaze is intently focused on him. "I asked you where you were going, but you didn't answer."_

 _"...and then I was walking, and I stopped to see Dallas –"_

 _Soda's eyes light with worry. "Pone..."_

 _He rises to a sitting position, still on his knees and with tears back in his eyes. "And then I remembered: he's fucking dead, just like..." He motions to the grave just before him; one that reads Johnny Cade. "Just like Johnny."_

 _"It's been a year," Soda says softly; almost in shock that he still keeps this to himself._

 _"I know it has," he mutters, taking notice of how the world spins behind the tears blurring his vision. "And I know I should be okay with it_ _–"_

 _"I never said that, Ponyboy," Soda starts, but he's cut off as his younger brother starts to lean to the side._

 _"I know that I should..." For a moment, he trails off, lost in thought and losing himself in the madness of his own head. "...that I should be rid of them; that I should be fine with them not being here..."_

 _Soda's right hand is suddenly wrapped around his shoulder, gently guiding his body closer. "You're talking in circles," he comments. "Come on, let's get you home. We can finish this, whatever it is, when we're there."_

 _"Soda..."_

 _"Shut up, Pone," Soda barks softly, knowing he's going to protest. "You're coming home, whether or not_ _–"_

 _"Maybe I'll die on the way home."_

 _Alarm rises in Soda's tone. "What?"_

 _His gaze is hard, full of sincerity as he meets Soda's. "Maybe I'll die on the way home. You know," a smirk, just shy of a full grin, traces his lips as he's lightly lifted from the ground below him and pressed into Soda's bare skin. "from the blood loss and all."_

 _"You're not gonna die," Soda stammers as he begins to walk to the two them away from Johnny's grave. "I won't let you."_

 _Silence falls on his next few words; words that even scare himself._

 _"But I wish you would."_

* * *

I blink once, and I'm standing in Soda's doorway, listening to the way the sheets move with each sway of his body weight. Kat dozes softly beside him, her arm wrapped loosely around his and her head buried into his back.

There's part of me that wants to go and wake him; wake Soda and tell him that I'm okay, that last night was just a bad episode. There's part of me that wants to wake him and tell him that I'm not okay – that I have never been.

But, like a coward, I slowly watch their bodies disappear behind the closed door.

* * *

 **I'll admit, this chapter wasn't my best for a first chapter. But hey, it'll get better with time, I promise. :)**

 **See you next update!**

 **–Sunny**


	3. Chapter 2

**I AM SO STOKED FOR THIS. I HAVE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE THIS FOR FOREVER. PREPARE FOR FEELS AND SADNESS AND GUILT.**

REVIEW REPLIES

 **The Seventh Sage:** hey, friend! Thank you! :D I have a feeling that this will be better than Insanity, too. :3

 **Amanda (Guest):** whoa, hey! I haven't heard from you in a while, but it's nice to see you're still interested in my stories. :) Thank you for your kind words!

 **Without further ado, here's Darry's chapter. While I tried my best to look up and research charges and a number of years a person can be sentenced for those charges, I'll probably miss something. Apologies in advance.**

Chapter 2:

Alone; Always Alone

"Your court date is in a few months."

A nod. "Mhm. I know." Oh, how could he possibly forget?

The shuffling of papers fills his subconscious. "You know what you're bein' charged with?"

Another nod. This time, he doesn't say anything, which prompts the attorney – his attorney, and a shitty one at that – to read his charges off.

"First-degree assault and battery on minors, which would be your two brothers."

He scoffs, smirking. His attorney sends him a sharp glare, which he doesn't even pay attention to. Not until he starts to talk slowly and crisper, that is; then, he can't stand to not focus in on it.

"Do you realize what you're getting yourself into?" There's silence, which prompts him forward. "You could be spending twenty-five years in jail for this stuff, Mr. Curtis. _Twenty-five years._ "

He shrugs and smirks again, meeting his attorney's eyes. "That's why I got you, ain't it? To protect me?"

"You're not gonna be protected at all if you don't start taking this seriously."

He tears their gazes apart; picks at a scab on his left hand, all the while muttering, "Take what seriously?"

A frustrated groan comes from his attorney's side of the room. "Darrel –"

"Don't," he hisses under his breath, "call me that."

"Sorry; Darry –"

The smallest of smiles graces his lips. "There you go."

His attorney doesn't even bother continuing with his previous statement, but instead asks the one thing he always knew he would: "Do you regret it?"

He blinks. That's the only sign to show that he heard what the guy's said. "Regret what?"

"Do you regret what happened? What you've done?"

"Do I get some sort of prize if I say yes?"

A sigh, and when their eyes meet, it's a whirlwind of trust and deceit. "I'm not asking you to be rational, Darry. I'm asking you to feel something; feel anything that isn't hatred for yourself –"

"I don't hate myself," he shoots back. But his mind screams otherwise, and the man standing before him speaks of that same turmoil inside of his head not a moment later.

"But you do. I can see it."

He breaks the eye contact once more, scowling under his breath. But it's then, in that moment between anger at himself and anger at that nicely-dressed man that he starts to remember. And then he's suddenly spewing out words, syllables, and phrases that may not make sense in his head but seem to make sense out in the open.

"I remember watching Ponyboy," His heart twists at his younger's brother's name being spoken of in such a dark circumstance. "and seeing him sulk for the longest time after Johnny and Dally died. I'd never seen the kid so down; so broken; so depressed... it was like a completely different version of him, one that wouldn't let anyone in.

"I would see him cry at random times. I would hear him scream during the night as a nightmare plagued his mind; they never seemed to leave. I would watch him fall asleep right after school and not be seen until the next morning. It was like he lost part of himself when Johnny and Dally died, and I don't think he ever intends to get it back."

There's a pained flash in his attorney's eyes as he continues. "I'll never forget the night he tried to kill himself... Of all the things the kid had done over the last seven months, that was the one thing I never showed any worry for. I came home from work to hear Soda hollering from his and Pony's bedroom, and not even the slightest bit of worry made me run to the doorway and see what was happening. Instead, I walked calmly down the hallway to the doorway and stood there, like a coward, with my eyes focused on the bottle of antidepressants on the floor.

Soda didn't need to look back to know I was there, but he did anyway. I remember the bright, panicked look his eyes; it was a look of plead, of desperation and helplessness. But even so, I continued to look straight ahead, not wanting to meet Soda's eyes...he'd shouted my name for the sake of acknowledgment, before turning back to our youngest brother."

Tears sting his eyes, and a sob threatens to burst inside of his chest. "God, if I could go back and change the way I looked at Pony..." Realizing that his attorney's going to ask how, exactly, did he look at Pony, he rushes ahead. "I remember feeling nothing but anger; anger at him for trying to kill himself not too long after we lost Johnny and Dally. Anger at him for putting us through another family tragedy after losing our parents. Anger at him for simply just trying to die; for wanting to die."

The sob starts to rip inside of his body, and he shakily takes a breath: "There wasn't any remorse or regret in his eyes, though, when I finally looked at him. He seemed happy, of all emotions one could feel when trying to intentionally kill themselves. I swore to myself that he was doing it to get back at me for yelling at him, for making him run away to that goddamn church, Johnny with him. I didn't seem to recognize just how hurt he actually was; I was convincing myself that he wasn't, simply because I wanted him to not be. So I walked away – I left Pony sitting there, slowly getting unconscious and Soda screaming for me to come back, for me to do something like take him to a hospital. I kept walking; I didn't look back."

And he continues to blab and cry and writhe in the chair he's seated in, never realizing he's alone. That he always was alone.

* * *

 **Poor Dar. :( I really hate making him so depressed and psychotic, it seems, but it helps you, the reader, get inside of his scarred mind. He's only going to get worse, I'm afraid...**

 **SIDE NOTE: I now co-own/run a Tumblr blog dedicated to the Insanity series with one of my best friends, Seventh. :3 It's called kadapolly (a combination of Kada and Polly, obviously) and I think it'll be a lot of fun! I'll be posting little snippets/extras of what didn't make it into either novel, as well as sneak peeks for newer chapters, if that interests you. :)**

 **I hope you enjoyed! Thank you for reading, and if you have the time, please review!**

 **~Sunny :)**


	4. Chapter 3

**I figured I should update at least once this month, especially before I leave for Oklahoma in four days. Sadly, I won't be going to Tulsa, but to Oklahoma City. :P**

REVIEW REPLIES

 **Seventh:** aw, thanks, bud! Darry's gonna be featured in this chapter as well, so be ready. ;)

 **Here we go!**

Chapter 3:

Home

 _ **Soda**_

It was raining today.

And it wasn't a soft, delicate tapping noise that almost lulled him to sleep more than once. It was a hard _rap-tap-tap_ that seemed to bounce across the car, going in any direction and every direction in order to keep him awake.

There was a dark tint to the world as Soda stared ahead in his beaten up truck, rotating his car keys between each of his fingers in a daze. A grimace had settled itself over his face, making him look pissed off rather than bored. His body ached with fatigue, having not slept in the past few nights; today had been in his mind for the longest time, and now that it was here? He wasn't sure he could do this; he wasn't sure he'd make it past those front doors.

 _Come on, Curtis,_ he told himself roughly, scowling inwardly. _Get your shit together. You've waited forever for this; just drive and get it over with._

His hand moved toward the ignition, the key poised and ready to be placed in the slot. But as he began to put the key in the proper place, he paused; he took it out, sat back, sighed, and paused.

Momentarily, he thought of nothing.

But then he thought of everything.

He thought of Pony, who sat at home and had no idea what Soda was doing. He thought of Molly, who Soda had told everything to, but made her promise not to tell Pony. He thought of Kat, the love of his life, the light of his world, and how much shit he was going to be in with her once this was all over.

He thought of Darry, who knew nothing of his visitation nor nothing of himself.

Silently, quietly, Soda brushed the tears away from his tired eyes, stuck the key in the ignition and turned.

* * *

His first course of action, if he'd taken the initiative to mentally go through everything a second time, should've been to push through security just like he'd always done. He knew the guards; the guards knew him. It would be easy; nothing more than a nod to the two up front and he'd be through.

And as Soda raised his head to do just that, a different set of eyes – ones not so friendly or inviting – met his own. There was distrust boiling beneath the guards composite, narrowing gaze as he approached, and a sigh scattered the air around them as it slipped between Soda's lips. They stood in opposite statures; Soda upright and rigid, the guard slumped over his desk and rolling a toothpick between his teeth.

"Sign in here," the guard said monotonously, his words slightly muffled by the small sliver of wood. Soda could tell how disinterested he was; he danced from foot to foot, his eyes lighting with a small amount of annoyance at how slow of a pace Soda was taking things. "You deaf or somethin', kid? I said sign in here." He pointed with his fingertip to a small black line sketched out on the pure white paper in front of them.

A sudden dread washed over him as he took the pen into his hand. He could feel the guard's eyes watching him; he could feel _everyone_ watching him as he scrawled his name across the line in blue-black ink, his entire body trembling.

"Who are you seeing today?" There was a sudden interest that bloomed in the guard's voice as Soda slid the paper back in his direction. A sly smirk passed over his lips as he opened a drawer close to the bottom of the desk and put the paper inside, only to draw out another. "Don't talk much," he mused with a glance into Soda's dark gaze, "do you, kid?"

Soda took no notice to the laughter that was laced with his words. "I'm here to see my brother," he stated simply.

The guard's smirk grew. "And who might that be?"

"Darry Curtis."

"The psychopath?"

Soda clenched his jaw, bile rising in his throat. _Psychopath...disgusting._ "Yeah," he murmured darkly, "Him."

The next few moments were a blur. One minute, he was signing his name across a small slip of paper; the next, he was being scanned with a metal detector.

"Part your legs," the guard's order sucked Soda back into the present. "Time to pat you down."

Soda let out a humiliated grunt and did as he was told. The click of the guard's shoes echoed in his mind as he bent to Soda's torso and began to pat his way down both of his legs, first at the front and then at the back. "Satisfied?" Soda asked heavily once the task was finished.

"Go through," the guard said, avoiding the question. "Just tell the other two back there that you've filled out all your paperwork."

He voiced his thanks and slipped through the double doors without another word. The white hallway seemed to be larger than he'd previously remembered; and as he walked, his footsteps seemed to carry him faster than ever despite his slow pace.

A word to the guards just before him; a quick glance to his right, followed by one behind him. Swallowing the urge to run, Soda stuck his hands into both of his jeans pockets and turned down the all-too-familiar corridor.

* * *

His first impression of Darry was quiet.

Quiet, actually, didn't begin to cover it. Darry was solemn; mute; oblivious to Soda's presence as well as his own.

He looked... _frightened._

Soda couldn't blame him; not really, with the outside world – the places, the people – being foreign to him. With his family, friends, and even his own reflection being foreign to him.

"Darry?" He kept his voice light as to not startle him. "Do you know who I am? Do you know where you are?"

It took a moment for Darry to process his words. When he spoke, the words that left his mouth practically made Soda stop breathing.

"I'm in hell," he paused to lock eyes with Soda. "And you're my brother."

A grin, of all things, twisted Soda's mouth. "You've one of those things right," he murmured, sliding the metal chair opposite of Darry across the ground and taking a seat. "I happen to be your brother."

"But I'm not in hell?"

"Not by my standards," Soda folded his hands and leaned forward in the chair so that he and Darry were holding each other's gazes again. "And not by yours, either, I hope."

Darry was quiet for a moment; then, he spilled out a question Soda didn't expect him to ask.

"Are you still here?"

Soda's heart twinged with hurt. Delicately, he reached forward and placed one of his hands on top of Darry's, murmuring, "Yeah, bro... I am, and I'm not going anywhere."

"I didn't expect you to be here so long," Darry's eyes flashed with pain. "Usually, they scare people away."

"Who?" Soda raised an eyebrow, frowning. "Who scare –"

"The voices," Darry answered straight-faced, his eyes narrowing horrifically on Soda. "The voices in my head."

He bolted before he had a chance to sob.

* * *

"How did it go?"

"Don't ask me that," Soda growled through the darkness.

Kat's hand tightened around his. "Someone's sassy," she teased at Soda's aggravated huff in response. "What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing."

"Don't lie to me," Kat hissed lightly.

"Then don't ask me stupid questions." Soda lashed back, immediately regretting using that tone of voice. He heaved himself up so that his legs were hanging over the bed, and he felt Kat's cheek press into the back of his neck.

"Talk to me," she whispered, her breath warm against his shoulder. "I've missed us."

"We're fine, Kat..." he sighed heavily, shutting his eyes.

"I've missed _you_."

Her words made him turn; made him take in the pain shadowing her gaze. It made him become overwhelmed with emotion; with hurt, with anger, with despair. "Kat –"

"Tell me how it went," Kat stated again, harsher this time. "Everything; from how it started to how it ended and everything in between. This is _killing_ you, Soda..."

He paused to gather himself; to gather his emotions. Then, in a breath that seemed to flow too quickly from his lungs, everything came to an abrupt end.

"I saw him... I saw him looking like he's been in hell. He's gaunt, probably hallucinating everything he's seeing, and can't even remember if I'm in the room. I heard him talking about the voices in his head. I saw his eyes flash with so much pain, so much anger at himself and at the world that he can't even see past his mistakes... He's angry, Kat... He's angry at himself and at me and at Pony –"

He paused, feeling a sob beginning to choke him. Kat's breathing was barely there; almost as if her next breath relied on him speaking.

"Kat..."

The sob ran through his lungs, through his heart and up into his throat.

"He's _just like Pony_."

She didn't judge him as he broke down in her arms.

* * *

 **emotional, emotional, emotional! Thank you for reading!**

 **–Sunny**


	5. Chapter 4

**I'm so sorry for the wait on this. I have had band camp and other things going on at the moment and with school coming up in about three weeks or so, I'm preparing for that as well. Thank you to all who reviewed!**

REVIEW REPLIES:

 **SYDTHEKID (GUEST):** omggggg boooo! AYE. Thank you so much! :'D That means a lot!

yes the feels are amazing aren't they

 **Seventh:** yes yes poor Sodie

poor everyone

just all the poor

thank you i love you so so much bud~

 **This next chapter starts now!**

Chapter 4:

Nothing Left to Lose

 _It took a while for his eyes to open and make sense of the world around him. Dark clouds moved sluggishly above him and the trees loomed over his head, their once bright green fronds now darkened from the sky. His body ached; his head pounded; and for the first time in his life, he actually felt stranded._

 _At first, his muscles didn't want to move. And so he sat there, in the cold and bitter grass, completely okay with not being mobile. His mind screamed at him to get up; to make something of himself for once and get his ass up._

 _He still didn't move._

 _Then, like a tidal wave had just crushed his body, the pain came. His body – his mind – registered what pain was, and when it ripped him apart, all he could do was thrash and hope to God above that it would be over soon. He could feel his mind being torn; torn between his better half and his darker half. He willed his better side to consume the bitter, to completely get it out of his head..._

 _nothing._

 _He gritted his teeth and bit down on his tongue, not even caring that his mouth was filling with blood. The pain came stronger and stronger, faster and faster, deeper and deeper until it was installed in his veins and inside of his head like a disease that couldn't be cured._

 _And as he lay there on the cold grass in a storm of himself and of nothing, the upper half of his body arched up as if he'd been kicked._

 _He screamed through the blood in his throat as the sky shed tears upon his body._

Soda doesn't visit for what feels like an eternity.

It's been Two-Bit and Steve for the last however long. They come in, solemn and straight-faced, sit down and have a chat that is as boring as the dark gray walls around him.

But today is different; he knows it by the way the two of them hold themselves as they enter. Two-Bit's shoulders sag and Steve looks like he hasn't slept in days – maybe even weeks. They wear the same clothes that were on their backs a week ago, and their smiles are laced with something he can't quite pinpoint.

"Hey, man," Steve murmurs quietly with a slight smirk. It's the same one he's always worn, but it's never looked as pained as it does now.

"Soda's here," Two-Bit adds, which prompts Steve to glare sharply at him. He shrugs his shoulders and looks at Darry, frowning as he says, "What? It's what he was gonna ask and you know it."

"I was _buildin' up to it_ , you nitwit." Steve sighs and shakes his head. His eyes are dull when he looks back to the man before him. "Now, Dar –"

"I want to see him," is all he says. It's all he's been saying; all he's been thinking about and hoping each time he has visitors.

For a minute, it seems to him that Steve and Two-Bit hesitate at his request. Their heads turn to look at each other, and Darry can see the questions burning behind each pair of eyes. It's enough to make him rethink the whole idea of seeing his younger brother...

But not completely.

"Come on," he growls lowly, the corner of his eye twitching in annoyance. The two of them look back at him; they take in that annoyance and seem to recognize it as he says, "Give me some time with him."

So that's what they do.

* * *

He enters slowly with Kat at his side.

At first, he's not happy that she's with him. But by the way Soda clutches her hand in his like it's a lifeline, like a safe haven, he can't help but feel something other than resentment as Soda sits before him quietly. She stands highly, her hand moved from his grasp and now on his shoulder like a watchful eye, ready to pull him out of here if something happens.

If his darker side happens, no doubt.

"Hey," Soda's voice is light; almost timid. Almost as if he doesn't want to be in here. Kat simply nods; probably the only thing he's going to get out of her, but at least it's something. A small smile traces Soda's mouth, and his eyes cast downward. "I see they've let up on the whole psychopath thing, hm?"

Silence falls over him as he checks his feet, where the shackles have been taken off. "A little, yeah," a scoff echoes through the room. "It ain't much, but –"

"It's good, Darry."

Her voice startles him, causing him to flinch. Soda's eyes flash with worry, but he ignores it and focuses on Kat.

She's smiling, of all things. Smiling like when she first met him; smiling like she's been here, with Soda, her entire life. She's smiling to try and seem strong, to try and seem like she cares. He can see through it; through the deception and the lie that rests between her teeth in that brittle, fake smile.

It's all he's ever known; deception and lies have been his best friends for years now.

"It's good?" The voice that comes from his throat isn't his own. It's like a demon; cold and calculating. "What's good?"

"You're getting better," Soda gives Kat no time to answer and no time for him to question further. "That's good, Dar. That's a really –"

"That's bullshit, Soda," his eyes narrow in on Kat, who now seems frightened. "and you know it."

"Stop it," Kat raises her voice, and even though Soda hisses at her to stop, she prowls on. "You don't know what you're saying..."

He laughs at her; he throws his head back and laughs, and it _sickens_ him. "Like you know what's going through my head."

"You're sick, Darry. You're out of your head."

"Ha!" The word _sick_ makes him want to _physically be sick_. "Ha-f _ucking_ -ha!" He starts to rise from his chair, and Soda does the same from across the table. His brother's eyes are flaring with worry and anger at the same time; with panic and protection at the same time. "I'm sick? I'm _ill_ , Kat? Is that what you think?"

She opens her mouth to reply, but he doesn't give her the time of day.

"How's _this_ for you, then?" Suddenly, with a strength that doesn't seem possible in his state, he completely thrashes and kicks at the chair he's tied to, trying to break free. Frustration boils deep within him at the failed attempts, and in his rage that completely blinds him from everything right from everything wrong, he reaches forward and flips the table in front of him. It falls to the ground with a sharp _clang_ , and Kat's panicked yelp makes him feel something.

It makes him feel _good_.

He's about to scream, about to demand that Kat sees just how insane he is when the door opens and someone steps inside while Kat rushes out.

Soda breathes a name, and it makes his legs quake and his heart beat faster inside of his chest:

" _Pony._ "

* * *

 **dun dun dunnnn. :D**

 **This next chapter should be pretty fun to write!**

 **See you next update, and I will try to not do such a horrible job of not updating in a month!**


	6. Chapter 5

**After the events of the last chapter, I'm pretty sure you're wondering just what Pony's gotten himself into now.**

Chapter 5:

Breaking Down the Walls

Part 1

 ** _Pony_**

"Get out of here."

Those were the first words out of Soda's mouth, and with them, the world seemed to go on pause.

Darry stopped in his fury. Soda let his worry and his protectiveness overwhelm him, and he faced their eldest brother defiantly.

Pony simply stood there, taking it all in and not saying anything. Then, looking deep into Soda's flaring gaze, he spoke. "No."

From behind Soda, he lifted his eyes to Darry and took a step forward. Soda sharply warned him to stay back, but he brushed it off. There was anger burning brightly in the eldest Curtis' eyes the closer that Pony got, but there was also a calm flickering just at the edges. Pony could feel himself smiling out of sadness, out of recognition; he could feel the pain that had been buried deep down inside of him, in the darkest depths of him, begin to seep out of his body.

He knew how Darry felt. He knew it all; the pain, the anger, the resentment and even the regret. He knew it all, and yet... it seemed much more alive on Darry than it ever did him.

He placed his steps carefully, knowing that if Darry were to lash out, he'd have a space to leap out of the way and take Soda with him. "So much has happened in the last year," he murmured quietly as he advanced on his brother. "I'm back at home, I've got a girl, and I'm probably the happiest I've ever been!"

"Pony," Soda warned darkly, "Don't."

"And where are you?" He was standing directly before Darry now, a smile on his face and a saddened, yet angered look in Darry's eyes. His oldest brother simply stood there, rigid, trying to not seem interested. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and leaned back on his heels, adding a hint of hostility into his voice as he said, "Where the _hell_ are you, brother?"

"Pone!"

Pony grunted in frustration as Soda's hand clamped down on his wrist and pulled him back, Soda's furious gaze locking him in. "Knock it off. You're not helping."

"Neither are you. Let me go."

"I'm not letting you do this," Soda spoke softly but threateningly. "Not to your own brother."

There was a wicked and sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach, almost like he wasn't...him. He could feel the anger coursing through him, completely taking over his mind and his body. With a hiss, Pony wretched his wrist free of Soda's grasp and sauntered back to Darry, where he spat at his oldest brother's feet and snarled.

"You're in a place I always assumed you'd go one day."

His brother's reply was lost in a flurry of guards and a door slamming in his face.

* * *

The walk to the truck was ungodly silent except for the _pat-pat_ sounds of rain on the pavement.

"What the _hell_?" Kat's shrill broke up the tense silence as Soda relayed the message he'd given Darry to her. She raised her voice as she walked, picking up her pace so that he'd be able to hear her. "Pony, what the –"

"He's not gonna answer you," Soda murmured from behind him, and he could feel his brother casting his back a glance.

He said nothing, to which Soda let out an 'I'm-right-you're-wrong' scoff and Kat told him to shut it.

* * *

Night had fallen on Tulsa shortly after they'd left the prison. Thunder called and lightning traced bright lines in the sky, the rain coming down in buckets by the time Soda's truck pulled into the driveway.

Dread settled on Pony's heart as he climbed out of the truck and took long strides after Soda. His eyes focused on the ground before him, and in an attempt to make Soda smile or do something that was normal for him, he began to follow Soda's footprints in the mud.

"Quit acting like a child."

Soda's bark made him flinch and stop in his tracks. His brother didn't acknowledge the fact until he'd made sure that Kat was inside with Molly and he turned to talk, finding no one standing before him with a guilty face and tears mixing with the rain that dripped off of his clothes.

Their eyes met from the yard to the front of the house. Soda's face softened, as did his stature; from his place, Pony could've sworn that he heard him whisper his name.

Then, without a word, he turned and went inside as if he never saw him.

* * *

Molly was there when dawn broke.

When the front door opened, he half expected it to be Soda, coming to talk with him and reprimand him for what he'd done. His second person in line was Kat, who would've forced him to talk whether he wanted to or not. So, naturally, the last one he'd ever expect to come and talk to him, to come and _counterattack_ him, was Molly.

She carried a piece of paper in her hand and growled, "What in the hell is this?" It was the one question she was wondering. The one question that Soda and Kat and even he himself were wondering, and he had no answer for any of them. She stood before him, her hands on her hips and her eyes narrowed in questioning and in wondering, one brow arched in a defiant way.

He knew he had to answer her; at least give her something. With a sigh that about left his heart aching, he murmured quietly:

"I've known for a while now that I'm being sent there."

She placed her hand delicately on his knee, tilting her head. "Where's there?"

His words were like knives, cutting into his throat and making his voice sound jagged and broken. "'Nam. To fight in the war."

But before he could even open his mouth again to explain himself further, Molly was sitting on her knees on the step just below him, taking in his looks. Taking in his tired eyes, his muddied clothing, and his unwillingness to even muster any sort of addition to that statement.

"You're not going to talk to me about this, are you?" There was a pain in her voice now; her voice even trembled a little bit. "You've already made up your mind?"

He nodded, and the hurt that flashed in her eyes made his heart skip a beat. The sound of it made him mentally throw himself against a wall, and when he didn't even acknowledge her existence, she rose with a scoff, shaking her head and beginning to march back into the house, calling for Soda –

and then she was standing before him again, with her face just inches from his. "Don't go," he whispered, feeling like his world was coming to an end.

She gazed at him sadly for a moment before pressing her forehead against his, just as Soda came into view. "I have to," she replied, "because you haven't chosen to stay."

"I'm helping my brother, Molly –"

"You're helping someone who can't be saved."

And then she was disappearing behind Soda, who stared at him solemnly. Then, he stepped out and took her place beside him, crossing his arms over his chest and watching him.

"You wanna go for a ride?"

* * *

"When do you go?"

Pony sighed around the smoke in his mouth. "Sometime in the next month or two."

Soda cursed loudly to the horizon. "Of all the times..."

"I know," Pony stated flatly; grimly, "I know."

There was an indescribable amount of pain in Soda's eyes when Pony finally looked to him. They sat on the hood of his truck somewhere in the middle of Tulsa, away from the house and away from the prison.

"Molly's gonna kick my ass –"

Soda laughed and rolled his eyes. "Not if Kat beats her to it, which she probably will."

He cracked a small, sly smile and avoided his brother's gaze. The sun was hiding behind a large, darkened cloud, and it made him want to run far, far into the field of which they sat in to try and catch the sun.

To try and catch his sense of belonging; to try and catch _himself_.

"You okay?"

Soda's voice brought him back, and when he stole a glance to his left, Soda was staring at him intently. Their eyes met without a word being said; Soda's dark brown gaze searched his, trying to find some sort of answer to his question.

"No," he murmured, and when he said the word, a dam of emotions broke inside of him and flowed out of his mouth. "No... I'm not, but I'm trying to be."

"You've gotta tell him," Soda stated heavily, "You've gotta tell Darry."

He nodded solemnly at his words, and Soda trailed off then and there, allowing silence to build and grow until neither of them could stand it anymore: "Darry's not gonna be able to see you, you know."

Pony blinked, the realization dawning on him. Then, he started smiling as the sun peeked out around the darkened clouds again, and he could feel himself lean close to Soda, putting his hand on his older brother's shoulder and looking into his eyes with that same smile on his face.

"If he can't see me leave, and I know he won't –"

The smile grew on his face, and Soda sighed in a way that made tears come to his eyes as he said:

"Then make sure in hell he's there to see me come home."


	7. Chapter 6

**Welcome back! It's good to finally be writing again after being swamped with work from school. :)**

Chapter 6:

Breaking Down the Walls

Part 2

"I'm leaving, Darry."

Pony sits before him, the pain from speaking those three words clear on his face. _There's a lot more to this..._ his mind screams.

 _There has to be._

A grim silence falls as he asks, "Leaving for what?"

His youngest brother's leg bounces up and down from where he sits. The pain in his face travels to his eyes, and when their eyes lock, it's like Darry's taken to a whole other world.

It's days of pain. It's weeks of pain. Hell, it's years of pain, all coming together on the sound of his voice.

"For war," Pony's voice cracks, and the sheer sound of it makes his heart skip a beat, "For 'Nam."

"War," he echoes, his tongue feeling heavy in his mouth.

Pony nods grimly. "Yeah, Dar... War."

"You..." The words are bitter in his mouth; like bile. He tried to swallow them down, but they still come up and make themselves known. "You can't be serious."

"Leaving in about a month or so," Pony states. He says it casually, almost like it's nothing; almost like he wanted it to happen.

The door to his cell opens before Darry can say anything more. Together, he and Pony look to the open space, where Soda stands with his hands in the pockets of his jeans. Apparently, that's Pony's cue to exit, as his youngest brother rises from his seat and makes his way over to him.

They share a look. Soda places his hand on Pony's shoulder and grips it tightly, like he'll disappear if he lets go at the wrong time. Pony simply nods before looking back at Darry, giving a small, almost unnoticeable wave and letting the door shut behind him.

* * *

 ** _Soda_**

"Soda..."

At the sound of his name, he took a step forward towards his brother.

"Darry." The name came out as a sigh; a heavy, almost painful sigh. It hurt his heart, his chest, and his thinking; his mind flashed to images of the three of them, running around in the yard. It flashed to the three of them, sitting beside their parents, laughing at something a younger Soda had done.

It flashed back to simpler times – to happier times. To times that were so distant from what they lived now.

"You can't let him –"

"He's made up his mind, Dar." The words came crashing down on his fake reality. Everything blurred, shifted, and altered itself, revealing what he'd been blind to all along:

Pony was leaving, and he might never come back.

"Change it, then!" Darry hissed, his eyes burning with malice. Not towards him; not even towards Pony. It was malice towards himself – towards what Darry had become.

He placed one of his hands on the back of the chair before him. With the other, he rubbed at his temples as if he had a sudden headache. "I can't," he muttered, and the words were loose and broken and cracked as they came from his lungs. "Not this time."

"This is a matter of life and –"

"I know the risks," he interjected sharply, staring Darry down. His hand dropped back beside the other, and together, they pushed and tensed against the chair. "I know the stakes. He does too, Darry; he has to know them."

Darry simply stared at him, completely dumbfounded. His eyes were burning with pain, but even as it intensified, Soda continued. "There's no trying anymore. At least not with this."

For a moment, Soda lacked a response from Darry. Then, like all the pain in his eyes had moved to his lungs, he spoke it all in the form of words. "Can you guarantee he'll come home, Soda?"

His heart took a turn down a dark alley; his mind became clouded, and almost like he was drunk, he slurred out the words, "You know I –"

" _Can you or not?_ "

Soda paused to let silence filter through the room; through the vents and through both of them, almost like a calming mechanism. "No," he murmured softly, and watching the pain... the raw, ungodly amount of pain, of anger, and of sheer _agony_ resonate back in Darry's eyes caused him to do something he'd been told countless times not to.

He walked over to Darry, got down on his knees, and looked at his oldest brother in absolute _helplessness._

"I can't guarantee it. I can't, and yet I want to be able to tell you he'll come home..."

Darry sensed his discomfort; his attempt at being strong. "He might not," he breathed, and Soda shut his eyes and let his emotions rise above all control.

"And if he doesn't," Soda sucked in air as if the room were being drained of it. "We..."

"Shut up," Darry ordered sternly but softly. With as much room he could grasp with being handcuffed to the chair, he reached out and put his hand on the top of Soda's head. "We'll cross that bridge when – _if_ – we get there. But we won't, Soda." He looked deep into Soda's eyes, and the largest amount of sincerity – of normalcy – burned bright in his green eyes. "We won't get there. I promise you."

Almost as if the universe were confirming their worst fear, the room went black with the hushed sounds of footsteps coming into the room.

* * *

 ** _Kat_**

"I need to talk to you."

Soda's eyes immediately went to Darry, who he was still seated beside. Darry sighed, looked at her for a moment before turning back to Soda and nodding. Soda got to his feet and hastily followed her out, where she stopped just short of a large, barred window, where the sun's evening light poured through and warmed their skin.

He didn't even give her the chance to talk. Instead, he demanded shortly, "What's this about?"

"Molly," There was a pause to allow that to sink in, and then she was going again. "I'm worried about her."

"Aren't we all?" Soda asked heavily to the air, seeming bored.

"About her emotional and mental state, Soda," Kat stressed, reaching for his wrist and holding it in her hands as to not let him get away. "This whole thing... It could make or break her, and I think it's –"

"It's breaking us all," Soda dismissed, which propelled her aggravation. "Especially Darry and me."

"No shit," she huffed, rolling her eyes, "But this concerns her, too; and me." She took a step forward, closer to him, but Soda avoided her eyes and continually looked to Darry's cell, where his eyes burned like he wanted to go back in there. Like he wanted to escape from her. With a sigh, she squeezed his wrist and whispered, "Soda... Look at me. Talk to me. Be normal with me."

He didn't return anything, to which she narrowed her eyes on him and spoke harshly. "Cut the shit and _look at –_ "

The moment his eyes met hers, she stopped along with the world. "What's in your hand?" he asked roughly; timidly. There seemed to be a war going on inside of his head – between his heart and his mind, and nothing was being spoken.

"Nothing," she said quickly, furiously tucking her hand into her back pocket to try and let go of the object she held. Soda scoffed and reached behind her, grappling with her for a moment before ripping it out of her pocket and sending the small, completely harmless object to the ground. Kat licked her lips nervously, watching as Soda's eyes went between the ground and her own gaze, his mouth open in silent shock.

"W-What," He seemed to lack words, which made her smile a tad inside, "is that?"

"A ring, dumbass," Kat said sarcastically, reaching down and picking it up. She twisted it back and forth in between her fingers, letting the dark gold color shimmer in the sunlight and the small, yet crystal clear diamond nearly blind her. "I figured it was Pony's, and he was going to make a move on Molly..."

"Yeah," Soda's breathing quickened, almost as if he'd been running a marathon and was trying to catch his breath. "About that..."

"And so, you know, with Pony being an idiot most of the time, I thought he'd dropped it. I wanted to be a good person and give it back to him." She looked back to him and found him smiling, yet trying to hide it. Her heart skipped a beat and she raised an eyebrow, asking, "Soda... Why are you smiling?"

"No reason," he muttered, coughing to try and break it.

"I know that smile... That's the one you pull when you did something and I wasn't –"

She stopped; froze in time. She stared at the ring, then back at him, then at the ring...

No. No. No.

"...supposed to find out."

The smile on Soda's face grew. He took a moment to collect himself.

No.

He took his hand and intertwined the two of them for a moment, pressing his forehead against hers.

No.

Slowly, quietly, like the world was waiting for the right moment to implode on itself, he got down on one knee.

Yes.

"You know," His voice was quiet and full of nerves, but even so, his eyes were calm and his stance was proud. "I've waited a long time for someone...anyone, really, to love ever since she died."

Kat knew that by 'she', Soda meant Claudia. Claudia... The one girl she always thought Soda would never get over; the one girl she swore would have Soda's heart, his entire being and the entire idea of marriage - of remarriage - on hold.

"There are a lot of things I've done; good and bad. There are a lot of things I've loved and I've lost..."

A pause. A breath. A look so deep, so heartfelt and warm and passionate...

"You have always been the one thing I can't lose."

She could feel herself crying. She could feel the hot tears running down her face, creating streams of ink from mascara below her eyes. But through all of that; through all of the pain and the loss and the love she felt for other people, for herself...

It all faded on one question. One question that shook her, deep within her darkest depths and within her hardened core. It shook her and ravished her, feeling like she was finally being ripped at the edges, her seams falling to the ground in threads...

She felt alive.

"I know a jail isn't really the best place to ask this kind of thing, but... Katherine Marie White," Soda grinned from ear to ear, beginning to rise to his feet and face her completely. "Will you marry me?"

She spoke the first word that came into her head. It was quiet, barely audible, but the way that Soda's eyes lit up and Pony came around the corner, staring at the two of them, the word shook the walls and broke her heart in a loving way.

"I never thought you'd ask."

And as she spoke, she couldn't help but hope that Claudia was seeing this - that she was okay with it.


	8. Chapter 7

**This chapter was written over the course of probably three weeks. I'm so very sorry for the wait. I didn't have school today, thank goodness, so I have attempted to finish this to the best of my ability and on a note I am happy with.**

Chapter 7:

These Things I've Done

 ** _Molly_**

The fury started when Kat burst through the front door of the house, announcing her and Soda's engagement. Then entered Soda, who was grinning and looking more in love than ever; he went right to Molly and embraced her, his touch warm and inviting. Kat was quick to replace him, and together, the two of them swayed quietly back and forth as Kat spewed syllables and excitement out of her mouth like a fountain.

Her heart grew heavy the minute she saw him. She stopped swaying; she felt Kat pull back and look at her quizzically; she heard Soda cough awkwardly, almost to let them all know that silence was in the room instead of noise.

The world, her thoughts, and even her body lulled down to a dull hum inside of her head. All she could do was stare at him, look him straight in the eye and face him like there'd been nothing said between them that would break her.

Kat had moved from before her to Soda's side, the two of them silently debating if they should leave or stay. She could see it in their eyes, and that was enough. It was always enough.

"We'll, uh," Soda paused to glance at each of them and then behind him, almost like someone had stepped up and was urging him away. "Give you some space."

Pony gave his brother a nod; a simple nod, Molly thought, but a nod that conveyed thanks. Soda flashed a small, wiry smile before turning the corner towards his bedroom. Kat hesitated, her hand over her heart and looking at Molly worriedly, but at Soda's bark of "give them room to breathe, Kat", she disappeared in a flash of blonde hair.

There was nothing said for a long while. Pony didn't move; she didn't move. Neither of them made any move towards one another, nor did they want to. It was hard, being so far apart yet so close together.

"You're leaving." The words caught in her throat, brought tears to her eyes. "You're leaving."

"I know," Pony stated the obvious grimly.

"And you might never come back."

"Don't talk like that, Molls –"

"Like hell I won't!" Her voice grew an octave, and she recoiled almost instantly, as if she'd just broken something and was about to be scolded. "You're leaving me for a war you, of all people, shouldn't be involved in."

"It's not my choice. It's –"

"I'm not finished," she hissed, and Pony actually did as he was silently told; he shut up and let her finish. "You're leaving me and you might never come back. You're leaving me, here, with Kat and Soda, who are about to be married... you're leaving me here alone, Ponyboy..."

He crossed the room rather adamantly, taking her crumbling form into his arms. "I'm not leaving you alone," he whispered delicately, "I'm gonna come home, Molls."

"You don't know that."

Ponyboy pulled back from holding her to look solemnly into her eyes. He tilted her chin up in order for her to lock eyes with him, and with that, he bent his head and kissed her lightly, softly, almost like the world would break if he did it too harshly.

"I'm coming home to you," he whispered softly, lowly; maybe even a little bit huskily. "Whether I walk on my own two feet or in a goddamn wheelchair or some shit, I'm coming home to you."

* * *

 ** _Darry_**

Darry had always imagined himself having two bodies. One that was as he'd been before: strong and capable of many things, some of which people deemed impossible. That one he loved and cherished deep within his heart, for it was the one that everyone saw.

The darker, in all of its madness and clarity, was taking control of him. It was shoving the better out of the way, like a play in a game. It was making room for itself to grow – to complete envelope him in insanity. That was the one he hated, and rightfully so, for it was the one everyone had started to see more and more as the sun rose and set.

He'd tried for so long to keep the darker at bay. Pleasing it was about as difficult as pleasing a lover: you had to sweet talk it in order for it to do what you wanted. But this wasn't a lover, nor was it even a person. It was just Darry's mind, finally seeing what the world was really about and resenting it.

Tonight, his entire being felt numb, cold, and simply desired to cease to exist. He didn't try to fight back against the darker side, so instead, he opened his arms and let it embrace him.

The damage was done – might as well let it consume him.

His darker half materialized before him. Had it not been for the reality slowly leaking into his head, Darry could've sworn it was real.

He smiled tenderly, like he was happy, like he was content, and everything blurred into crimson.

* * *

 ** _Steve_**

A phone call at 5:10 was not what Steve had expected that morning. So when he took it into his hand and held it close, hearing Soda's panicked voice blabbering nonsense into it, he took a step back and evaluated the situation.

"Woah, woah... Soda, calm –"

"...Darry...said they..." The phone crackled and spit silence into the signal. Forcing himself not to whip the dumb thing across the room, Steve sat on the old, weary couch and waited for silence to completely halt the conversation.

"You still there?"

Soda's voice cut through the silence so abruptly, Steve had forgot he was even on the line. "Uh, yeah, I am. What's this about Darry?"

Soda began to say something, but cut off. Steve thought the phone was being crap again, but then he heard a dry sob.

"Soda?"

The response was another sob, but this one came filled with pain.

"Soda..." Steve murmured softly, imagining what it was like on the other end of the line. He could practically see Soda hunched on the ground, leaning heavily against his doorframe and letting sobs wreck havoc over his body. "Talk to me, man. What's going on?"

"Darry..." Soda's voice was faint, as if he were suddenly far from the phone. But Steve could hear the floorboard underneath him creaking under his weight, which meant he hadn't moved.

"I know, Soda," Steve was more level now, but still delicate in his words. "What happened?" When his best friend didn't answer for a long while, Steve licked his lips and growled, "Soda, I swear to God, if you're –"

Soda whispered something softly, stopping him.

"Darry tried, Steve," Soda's voice was tired and scratchy.

The phone hit the ground with a clang and the sound of a slamming door.

* * *

 ** _Two-Bit_**

Two-Bit wasn't entirely sure how it all went down. One minute, he was sitting outside of his home, smoking when Steve pulled up and shouted at him to get his ass inside. There was a large amount of worry in his tone – one that had to mean worse news than what they'd all been getting already.

The next, he was standing in the prison, watching Soda and Pony turn as he and Steve's footsteps subsided to a halt in front of them. Kat and Molly sat on the bench just opposite of Steve, and they both were trying hard to keep it together.

When the silence finally dispersed, it was to the sound of Steve's calm voice. "He's in there, ain't he?"

Soda and Ponyboy nodded simultaneously. "Yeah," Pony said, his voice thick with grief and his eyes shining with unshed tears. "He's in there."

For a minute, the entire room seemed to lack the presence of people. Two-Bit could practically hear the blood running through his body, the place was so quiet.

"He cut himself," Pony went on, and Two-Bit heard the unspoken words whirling inside of his head: _just like I did._ He chose not to focus on that, however, since it wasn't good to bring up such a thing in such a time.

"How did—" Steve started to say, but Soda cut him off.

"Don't know. Guess he got bored or somethin' and picked at some sort of metal." He crossed his arms loosely over his chest and put his weight on his heels. Kat rose from her seat and moved towards him, but Molly reached lightly for her wrist and shook her head.

"Soda."

The name came from Molly, of all people. Two-Bit watched as Soda turned to look over his shoulder, where Molly stood with her arm extended in front of her, almost like a child seeing something grand and exciting.

He watched as Soda followed her extended arm to the window and looked through it. There, with upper arms toned an off-white because of the bandages, Darry sat up looking at him.


	9. Chapter 8

**This chapter is pretty long, I will say. But a lot happens, which is something we haven't seen in a while.**

 **Enjoy!**

 **Shoutout to my one of my best friends, Seventh, for helping me write some of this chapter. I'm always thankful for you!**

Chapter 8:

One Way Ticket

 _ **Pony**_

Ponyboy Curtis was going to war.

The thought had never really dawned on him until today. For the last two months, he'd been trying to forget that it was even happening. He spent his days wandering aimlessly in a pit of despair, hoping that maybe this was all just a nightmare.

Every day, as the sun rose and set, his days of being here—with his family, or lack of one—were coming to a close. Never in all of his life, let alone his eighteenth year, did he think that he could now die by the hand of a stranger and the barrel of a gun.

Suddenly panicked, he looked at the clock that rested just above his dresser on a shelf: _11:20 a.m._ He then looked around the room, taking in the massive piles of clothes that crowded his bed—he wasn't entirely sure which pile was dirty and which was clean.

"Looks like a hurricane went through here, kid." someone said with a scoff of interest. Turning, Pony saw Kat leaning in the doorway and looking disgusted with the state of the room. "When was the last time you washed this damn underwear?" she asked, kicking a pair out of her way.

"Don't know," he answered honestly and turned his back, throwing a shirt in the direction of his bed.

"Fair enough," he could hear her sigh before walking in further. He braced himself for her to start yelling or screaming, but when that didn't happen, it left him silently wondering why.

"Aren't you here to yell at me or something?"

"I feel like you're already doing that yourself."

Her words stung him, though he wouldn't be shallow and admit that. "Not at all," he sighed casually, almost like her words hadn't meant anything. He avoided her eyes as he stepped over the pair of underwear she'd kicked out of her way in order to get to his bed, where he started to pick up random clothes and smell them to decide if they were dirty or not.

"God," Kat groaned, throwing her head back and sighing loudly, "You're about as bad as Soda." Moving towards him, she wrestled the shirt he was about to check out of his hand and inspected it, grimacing. "You're absolutely disgusting, Ponyboy," she growled, holding the shirt in one hand and pointing at a stain with the other. "What even _is this?"_

In truth, Pony had no clue what it was or what it had been. Maybe a spill? Whatever it was, it left behind a muddy brown color on his dark blue shirt. Shaking her head at the lack of response, Kat tossed the shirt in another pile and started sorting through his bed, glaring at him in shock from time to time at the state of his clothes. "You are _such_ a boy."

"It's in the name," he replied sarcastically.

She snorted softly at his remark, and while her expression held its ' _that-was-not-funny-in-the-slightest-bit'_ , her eyes sparked with the smallest bit of humor.

It seemed like an eternity had passed since Kat had been in the room, but when Pony went to glance at the time, it only read _11:38 am._ She'd only been here for eighteen minutes, but to Pony, it felt like she'd been there for a lifetime.

"You know… She really loves you." Kat wasn't looking at him, instead studying her combat boots. "You're breaking her heart."

"I know," Pony stated grimly, pausing to glance at her, preparing to meet her gaze. When she didn't raise her head nor acknowledge him, he sighed and rocked back on his heels. "But it's not like I chose this."

"You're the one who fucking signed your name, Ponyboy." Kat hissed. "You did choose this. I could've gotten you out of it, but you refuse help from anyone." she looked pissed, but took a breath and seemed to compose herself again.

"I didn't see you offering to get me out," Pony objected, his voice rising.

"I'm not supposed to just do everything for you. I could have gotten you out of it," she repeated.

"I've never asked you to do a damn thing for me!"

"Exactly." she sighed. "But… I looked into it. At this point, the only thing that would get you out of it is if you had a serious injury. I could break your leg if you like."

"Just to get out of going to war? Just to get out of leaving my brother and my girlfriend?" Pony scoffed, finding the idea interesting yet hilarious at the same time.

Kat chuckled. "Yes, but as soon as you're healed up I don't doubt they'll ship you out."

"Then there's no point," Pony shook his head, fed up with her and with everything. "That's useless to me and to you."

"Unless we vanish. The four of us, just… up and leave."

"I'm not leaving Steve and Two-Bit," he paused, feeling a sudden heaviness fall onto his chest, "and I'm definitely not leaving Darry where he's at. Not to just run away."

Kat tapped her chin and seemed to think for awhile. "No, you aren't. But one can dream. Anyways, I'll make sure everyone's safe while you're gone."

The heaviness faded to a dull ache as her words flooded his mind. Suddenly feeling compelled by his own awe, he asked, "You know when you and Soda are getting...you know…"

"Married?" Kat finished with a chuckle. "No idea, he's the one who asked me."

"He's not good with planning, so don't expect him to do anything without getting sidetracked."

"Maybe when you get back, then. That's only, what, a few years maybe?" Kat shrugged.

He nodded in agreement and didn't bother speaking. There was a moment of silence, followed by a sigh, and then:

"I'm… I'm really gonna miss you, Kat."

"And I'm going to miss you, Pone," Kat replied, folding her arms and looking him in the eyes. "You behave out there, or your general or whoever will probably kick your butt."

"General or whoever?" he stared at her, one eyebrow raised questioningly. "Weren't you in the army, so shouldn't you know who trains the newbies?"

"I…" Kat closed her eyes for a moment, before getting up and walking over to the door, which she closed before turning back. "Ponyboy, Molly and I weren't really in the army. They don't take in women, except as nurses and shit."

He moved toward her rather quickly, suddenly enraged. "Then what in the hell were you in? If not the army…" He trailed off, not believing what he was hearing.

"Kid… you've heard of a mafia, right? Think something like that, except not in Europe, and where women can actually lead and fight. I was born into it, but Molly…" Kat closed her eyes and looked away. "Molly was on the streets, you know, her parents were absolute shit. I let her in, which is rare, but I couldn't let her die out there."

Pony reached around her and tried prying the door open. "I've gotta tell Soda. You've gotta tell Soda. _Someone_ has to tell Soda."

Kat suddenly lashed out and forced him against the wall behind him, her arm having more force than he'd remembered, or even anticipated. "You won't say a word to him," she growled lowly, staring at him with narrowed eyes. "At least not right now. The fact that you're leaving is enough of a strain on him, don't you think?" She gave him a moment, a chance to respond, and when he didn't take it, she went on. "I promise I'm not going to leave him in the dark. I'm going to let him know exactly where I'm from, and what I am. But don't break his heart anymore than what it already is."

A knock rapped against the door, and Soda's voice slowly came through the wood. "What the hell is taking you so long, Pone? And where the hell is Kat?"

"I'm in here," Kat replied to his question lightly, happily. She stared at Pony hard and whispered harshly in his face, "Not one word." before releasing him from her hold and quietly opening the door.

* * *

 _ **Soda**_

He'd always thought that seeing Ponyboy leave would have been a bittersweet thing. For some time, he'd pictured the day that Ponyboy left to go fight for his country would've been more...humble. More satisfying to watch his baby brother go and do what very well might kill him.

But the minute that Soda pulled up to the large, cinderblock-ringed building and stepped outside to have the sunlight blind his vision, everything in that picture seemed to crumble and fall to ash.

The walk up to the steps of the place was brutally silent. Soda was walking in the back of the group, with Pony and Steve and Two-Bit up front and Kat and Molly in the middle. Every so often, one of them would look at him to make sure he hadn't fallen behind.

He'd heard Pony tell Steve something and then watched him slowly ascend the steps and quietly walk inside. There, in that moment of silence and dread, everyone seemed to crowd around Soda and stand there, stagnant and not saying a word, for there wasn't much to be said. After about fifteen minutes Pony reemerged, dressed in a tannish-gray colored t-shirt and light camouflaged slacks, complete with dark gray boots.

Pony's eyes met Soda's as he stepped into the middle of the circle. Then, without a word, he motioned for them all to follow.

The gray walls quickly gave away to a large field, where crowd after crowd of people were gathered all over the place. Those same people were blocked by a large, twisted black rope, and despite the barrier they were hugging, kissing, waving to kids that were in the same outfit as Pony was. In the distance, well enough away from the crowds, Soda noticed a large set of trucks were revving their engines and waiting for the time to start rounding people up.

Pony continued to walk forward until they were all standing close to one another, including the people surrounding them. Soda found himself standing next to a petite yet stocky woman, who happened to be bawling and shouting to a young kid that was halfway to the trucks. He watched as Pony ducked underneath the rope, closing the barrier he'd never thought would come between them.

It happened in about five minutes, but it felt like a lifetime.

First, Pony went to Steve. Soda saw a darkness overwhelm Steve's gaze, and with a firm hand, he grasped at Pony's wrist and nodded at him in what Soda thought was pride. Soda couldn't hear what either said to one another, but by the way Pony smiled just the smallest bit, he guessed it was something that eased both of their worries.

Two-Bit was trying to keep himself together when Pony moved from Steve to him. The two of them blankly stared at one another and said nothing for a moment before Two-Bit reached forward and took Pony's hand, gripping it firmly and nodding to him silently. Pony didn't say anything to Two-Bit, but instead nodded and held his gaze for another second before moving on.

Kat's expression was solemn, and in truth, Pony didn't seem to spend a lot of time with her. The two of them simply nodded at one another, lightly high-fived, and Kat muttered a "good luck out there" to which Pony replied, "Thanks. I will."

Soda had imagined his brother's goodbye to Molly as peaceful, of all things, to watch. And as he watched Pony hug and kiss the bawling, sloppy mess that Molly was in that moment, Soda could feel the waves of sadness coming off of them together, crashing into the four others that were in their presence. It was a heartwarming sight, and yet, at the same time, it was ungodly heartbreaking.

"And then there was one."

Pony's voice, which was surprisingly okay, startled Soda out of his trance.

There was so much he wanted to say—so much he _could_ say—and yet, in that second of time, he had only one thing on his mind.

"I always thought I'd be the one to go, or at least go before you."

Pony grinned and scoffed at his remark, but his eyes held an enormous amount of pain. "The roles have been switched, brother," he replied matter-of-factly, and with a look at Kat, he murmured, "Probably for the better, too."

He felt his body moving forward; saw his hand reach out and catch the back of Pony's neck and pull him close. "You be careful, you hear?"

Pony sighed, his breath fanning out across Soda's face. "It's war, Soda. War is never careful."

He said nothing for a long moment, only kept his hand at Pony's neck and wrapped the other around his shoulders. He felt Pony shudder beneath him, and heard a light but audible sob rise from somewhere deep within his younger brother. From within that sob and through the one rising in his own chest, Soda heard Pony whisper:

"Don't let me go."

Soda pulled back and looked Pony in the eye, taking it in. Taking in his tired and bloodshot eyes, almost like he hadn't been sleeping and Soda had been too dull to notice. Taking in his fidgeting, almost like he wanted to run away and take the five of them with him. Taking in everything and anything he could, because for as much as Soda knew, it would be the last time he saw his baby brother.

Softly, lightly, Soda brushed a tear away from Pony's eye, placed a kiss on the top of his head and murmured, "Don't let me make you stay."

* * *

 **heh. don't kill me; it'd be greatly appreciated.**


	10. Chapter 9

**I've been putting off this chapter out of lacking a way to actually write it and make it seem realistic. As a result, this chapter is going to be heavily...not like a courtroom setting would be, or how a case would be normally held if in an actual courtroom having an actual case. Apologies in advance. But, nevertheless, here it is.**

Chapter 9:

On a Long Road

 ** _Darry_**

"Do you promise to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"

The room seemed to darken as his brother's reply echoed in the silence. "I do." From his place across the room, Darry loosely fiddled with the chain connecting his hands to his feet and tried not to seem concerned.

"This is your life on the line," his attorney fiercely whispered at his side. "This is Soda's and Ponyboy's and everyone else's lives on the line... for you."

Darry stole a glance to his right. "Shouldn't you be paying attention?" He asked with a sneer, inclining his head to the witness stand, where the prosecutor stood questioning Soda. His attorney glowered back for a moment before doing as Darry suggested.

"You're the middle child, yes?"

Darry's eyes met Soda's for a brief moment. "Yeah, I am."

"So you have a younger brother?"

"That was implied, yeah." Soda retorted with a flash of anger in his voice.

The prosecutor hummed in interest at Soda's sudden anger. Darry saw his attorney lean forward in interest as well, but not for the reasons that the opposing was going for.

"Would it be true if I said that your younger brother, and therefore the baby brother of both of you—" he gestured to Darry with his hand for only a second. "is away right now, fighting for our country?"

Soda nodded.

"And that brother is also battling mental illness that should have prevented him from going into the war?"

Soda tensed at the word 'illness', and Darry bit his lip in order to not lash out. "That's right."

"So then, would it be true to say that he was running away from his problems?"

Darry's attorney suddenly stood, calling out, "This is irrelevant, Your Honor. This has nothing to do with what we're here for today."

"I have two questions left," the prosecutor interrupted, earning the judge's approval to move on. There was a smile on his face as he turned towards Darry, eyeing him with malice glittering in his stone-colored pupils. Without turning back to Soda, he asked, "The record shows that your youngest brother has a history of depression, yes?"

"Yes," Soda said, his voice suddenly wavering.

The prosecutor chuckled lowly, the smile growing as he said, "And would you say that the depression began on the night that this accused man hit him?"

Soda forced back tears as he stared right into Darry's eyes and choked out, "Yes."

The entire courtroom fell to nothing but what seemed like a thousand eyes being pointed at Darry. Hostility and anger burned in everyone's eyes—including Soda's—and from within that, the prosecutor seemed pleased. He bid Soda thanks and called to the court that he had no further questions.

"Does the defense have anything to ask?"

He watched, ungodly numb, as his attorney slowly rose and approached Soda with a confident stride despite what had just been revealed.

"Would you say your older brother is crazy, Mr. Curtis?"

Soda's eyes didn't stray from Darry's as he answered. "No."

"So then why, exactly, did he hit your youngest brother?"

"Because Pony provoked him," Soda stated heavily. "He made remarks that shouldn't have been made."

"But he's hit you both, correct?"

"Yes, but—"

"Did you provoke him to hit you? Did your brother provoke him to hit either of you again?"

Soda fell silent and blinked at Darry, as if asking if it was alright to tell. There were tears in his eyes, ones of pain and anger mixed together but still completely separate, and when they fell, the entire room exploded in a rush of heat.

"I provoked him each time. He was angry that Pony was in a mental facility, and I was angry that he wasn't seeing that it would help him. Pony was scared; we all were. Darry..." He paused to wipe at his eyes, where his demeanor was beginning to crack at the edges. "Darry was more hurt and distraught than I'd ever seen him. He hadn't cried or screamed or hit anything even when our parents died. This broke him; I can tell it still hurts him."

There was the sound of his attorney turning towards him. The sound of Soda leaning back in the chair he sat in, calming himself down. The sound of quiet and breaths being held and finally, the rise of the judge and all in the room.

Darry forced himself to meet the judge's eyes. What were once a chocolate brown color were now melded with black, dark and cruel and sickening. The judge stared at him—got a good look at him—and narrowed his gaze.

"I charge the accused with battery of two minors," his voice was heavy, thick with authority as his eyes swept over every face in the room. "With this, he's to spend six months in prison."

The call of the gavel echoed in Darry's subconscious as he was dragged out of the courtroom, watching as his brother and everyone else struggled to follow.

* * *

 ** _Soda_**

"I think I'm gonna be sick," Two-Bit gasped, trying to muffle his gags.

"Go do it away from here, then," Steve grumbled back, shoving him in the direction of the door. Two-Bit didn't exit; instead, he leaned heavily against the door, watching Soda.

They were all watching Soda, actually. And Soda was watching Darry, who was huddled in the corner rocking back and forth like he'd had a panic attack. They were all watching Soda, trying to guess what he'd do. Trying to see how he'd handle this, already having done it once before.

"You're okay, Darry," Soda coaxed, but Darry snarled an incoherent response. "Just calm down. You're okay."

"Why did he ask that?" Darry wondered out loud, his voice cracked and jagged as if the words were being dragged up his throat. He suddenly rounded on Soda, hissing, "Why did you answer like that?"

"He was doing what the courts asked," Molly's timid voice piped into the conversation, earning her a sharp look from Darry's cold, calculating gaze. "There wasn't anythi—"

"Bullshit!" Darry roared, to which Molly cowered back and the four other bodies in the room moved in front of one another. Soda held his stance as the others moved in, and his voice was firm and harsh when he spoke.

"You touch her—" he spoke slowly and threateningly. "—or any of them, and your ass isn't getting out in six months."

From behind Two-Bit, Soda heard Kat's boots lightly echo on the concrete floor. Her blonde hair came into his peripheral vision for a moment before her entire body was standing in front of him, her hands clutched at her sides as if she wanted to punch something.

Quietly, Soda placed his body between hers and Darry's and told her to back up. When she opened her mouth to protest, he silenced her with a look that sent her a few feet behind him.

Calmly, he turned his attention to Darry. "Think, Dar," he murmured timidly; a little too timidly for his liking. "Think about all you've done in here in this place, in this cell. What good has it done for you?" When Darry didn't answer, Soda went on. "What good has it—"

His words were cut short by Darry's weight forcing him on the ground and his hands at Soda's chest, pressing down. Darry's eyes were wild; seething and dripping with tears of madness and tears of sorrow, fighting over his entire body. From within his blurring vision, Soda could see just how much hatred Darry had for the world and himself and Pony and Soda and Steve and Two-Bit—

And then he was falling, falling, falling... the blackened, fuzzy images of Steve and Two-Bit hauling Darry away, giving Soda room to finally breathe, he doubled over onto his side and coughed roughly, trying to gain control. He lifted himself into a push-up position, except he didn't extend his legs. He simply sat there, coughing and heaving and fighting against the black that crowded his eyes, his mind...

He watched Darry's angered and wild eyes melt in the form of a horrified cry as his world went dark.


	11. Chapter 10

**ANNOUNCEMENT AS OF OCTOBER 23RD, 2016**

 ** _Shackles and Blades_ will be only 12 chapters instead of the anticipated 16. I have a difficult time coming up with ideas, and with the third book being planned out as soon as this chapter comes out, I have had a large urge to write for that rather than this. **

**There will be a third installment to this series. The title is not yet decided, however.**

* * *

 **Apologies for the lateness of this chapter. I've had a lot going on with three projects, two papers and one death in the family just in October alone. This shouldn't happen again, but there are no promises.**

 **Here is Chapter 10.**

* * *

Chapter 10:

What Happens in War

 _ **Ponyboy**_

Two weeks.

That's how long he'd been here; only two weeks. And within those two weeks, he'd seen more death and more wounds than he'd ever thought possible. He'd heard more cries, more cussing, more screams than he'd ever heard in his entire life. He'd watched countless men, whether they were his age or older, fall to the ground in agony as their bodies reached their limits; he'd watched as their General had cussed and hollered in their faces, demanding they rise and get their asses back to work.

 _This is crazy,_ he realized as each day passed, _and I'm insane for thinking I could do this._

Was it bad that he wanted to go home? Back to his brothers, back to the gang? Back to Kat and Molly and his life before this? To himself, no; it was completely normal and reasonable.

But to everyone else? It would be seen as cowardly, and Pony couldn't be considered a coward here. Not with a gun clinging to his side and number after number of people behind and before him, all fighting for the same reason he was: just so they could go home.

With each passing day, with each passing moment, he could feel a loneliness settle deep inside of his chest, almost like a tumor. It seemed to always grow a little bigger each day, trickling into the edges of his already dreary and clouded mind, wiping his thoughts of every sense of morality, of right and wrong and belonging and loss...

It left him feeling hollow; a feeling he hadn't experienced since forever ago.

"You good, mate?"

The voice just so happened to come from Peter, a young but strongly-built man no more than the age of nineteen. He happened to be British, and from what Pony gathered about him, he had no interest in fighting. He'd signed up to be in the army as a nurse, but alas, his dreams weren't able to come true and yet he was shipped out anyway. Pony would never understand that; but Peter didn't enjoy discussing much about himself, so it never was brought up.

"Yeah," he said. The word felt heavy on his tongue and it was rather difficult to get it out. "I'm fine."

Peter frowned for a moment but said nothing, only sat down beside him. "You thinkin' about your girl, aren't you?"

"Guess you could say that."

"Bloody hell," Peter scoffed, nudging Pony lightly with his shoulder. From his build, Pony would've had his shoulder knocked out of its socket had he done it any harder. "You're in a real funk today; more than usual."

"Like you've got any place to talk," Pony shot back hotly, which only made Peter grin. His heart twisted at the sight of it; it was a lopsided one, a small twitch in the mouth, but it reminded Pony so much of Sodapop's.

"Do you miss home?"

Pony laughed out loud at his question. "Of course I do, Peter. Don't you?"

"Nah," Peter said bluntly, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out a smoke. He struck a match against the side of his steel-toed boot and lit it, taking a long drag before speaking again. "My old chaps couldn't give a damn if I were dead or alive."

That hit him hard, of all things that should've impacted him more than that. It seemed to coil and ravel around in his head, trying to wrap itself around a thought, a memory, anything, and when it found nothing, it just sat there. It sat there like a headache; throbbing and egging him on until he couldn't take it anymore and he finally stood, kicking his foot into the ground.

"I need time alone," he murmured to Peter, who responded with "I can see that" and watched him walk off, yelling out after him, "Take care, and come back, would you?"

He didn't reply. His mind was too clouded; too dirtied with thoughts and words and memories. He continued to think and yell internally as he walked with tears gathering in his eyes, wondering just how in the hell he was going to make it through this alone.

Above him, the sunlight was blinding. Inside him, however, the sunlight was lost to storm.

* * *

 ** _Darry_**

Two minutes.

That's how long Soda was declared dead. Two minutes on the dot; no second before, after, or in between.

That's how long his heart, both his Soda's, stopped. That's how long he screamed and shouted and hollered for someone, anyone, to help; to save his brother who he very well could've killed.

That's how long it took for Soda's body to twitch in response to Molly's CPR and for the sound of him gasping for air to slowly make Darry's heart come down from panic.

He watched, rigid, as Soda turned and met his gaze. He suddenly shut his eyes and broke into a coughing fit; the sound of him groaning from obvious pain made Darry's blood boil.

Molly felt along Soda's side and winced as Soda cursed when her hand passed over his ribcage. "He's got a broken rib, but he should be okay." she reported, and from what Darry could see, it made Kat more calm than anyone else.

From the far corner of the room, Darry felt Kat's gaze settle on him. Fear came over him with each step she took as she advanced, a snarl clear on her face and a fire in her eyes. The closer she came, the more her voice raised and came close to a scream as she said, "You son of a -"

" _Kat._ "

Soda's voice, which was low and soft with pain, echoed in the room. Kat stopped, her eyes wide and smoldering yet softening upon hearing it. Her face was close to Darry's now, but she hastily turned and looked to him as if Darry didn't even matter in the first place.

"Don't do anything to him."

"He tried to _kill_ you!" Kat scoffed in astonishment, clearly not expecting him to say that.

"I said don't do anything, Kat; I mean it." Soda's eyes were hard with reasoning, and when he looked to Darry, the reasoning melted away, replaced with a thousand and one questions.

He never got the chance to ask one, however, because Darry was already being hauled away from the room with the end of a Taser gun in his side.

* * *

 **I'm sorry that this chapter is so short, but I felt I needed to update. These next two chapters, along with the epilogue, should be longer.**


	12. Chapter 11

Chapter 11:

One Year Later

 ** _Pony_**

I died overseas. And before you ask; no, it was not heroic or brave or anything of the sort. I got sick and died before they could figure out what was even wrong.

It was calm, dying. I didn't feel anything; it all kind of blurred together in a sea of white and crimson. I felt like I was floating—and I was praying to God that it would be over so I could forget everything that I'd witnessed.

I hadn't gone home in a year. I hadn't seen my brothers in a year; Soda sent me letters—everyone sent me letters—and I tried to reply as best I could, with the war and all. They started out long, but after about six months, they started getting shorter. Soon enough, there was barely a time that I managed to get a page from any of them.

The first and only time I came home, everyone was ecstatic. I had walked from the trucks the same way I had come towards them, and with each step, I could feel something inside me burn. It was only when I reached my family and my home that the feeling subsided. It was only when I had Molly back in my arms, sobbing at the sight of me not having lost a limb, that the feeling subsided.

And then, of course, everything went back. I had to return to the fighting, had to leave my only love, had to leave my blood brothers for people that were only considered my brothers because we were all doing the same thing: trying to survive in the cold and the wet with guns at our sides and targets on our backs.

Being a Prisoner of War was not what I'd planned; then again, none of it was, but whatever. There were plenty of times where I'd be beaten and shackled to a wall, whipped and punched and just wanting to die by the hands of them. I'd call out to someone, anyone in the absence of people in the room, hoping that someone would hear me and come to my aide. Of course, no one did; no one ever did.

There was peace that came with being liberated from that hellhole. With peace and liberation, you're bound to feel some sort of rush of tranquility or gratitude for the men who risked their asses to drag your broken, beaten body out of there. Unfortunately, I wasn't worth saving and I died shortly afterwards, with an itch in my throat and despair in my heart. No, in my very being.

I'm not going to argue about the afterlife, or whether it exists. All I know is that as my soul departed, I had a feeling of dread for what I was leaving behind. I saw Peter, the emotional bastard that he was, let out a sob. I watched people I'd never seen, never talked to, never fought beside all bow their heads. I let myself burn in the fire of wanting to exist and wanting to end.

A smirk, something that really should never show when you're dying, grew on my face as the air faded from my lungs. A slowing of my heart, a slurred "I'm sorry," escaping my lips, and I was gone with the wind.

* * *

 ** _Soda_**

 _"Don't let me make you stay."_

God, if only I'd made him.

* * *

 ** _Kat_**

The sheer aftermath of the phone call that announced Pony dead was nothing I'd ever experienced. Soda was beside himself with grief, and Molly… God, Molly was more depressed than ever before. Suddenly Darry and I were the heads of the family, caring for these tired souls.

My biggest fear was that Molly would abort her baby in her grief. She often talked about it, and each time, I had to be the one to snap her out of it. She'd cry and she'd collapse onto the floor in a rageful sob, pounding on the floor and on the wall and screaming at her unborn child that it was a curse. I watched her scream and cry and lash out in rage almost every night; it was her coping system, I guess.

Soda was the one who scared me the most; and it wasn't just because he was my fiancé. Anyone would be terrified at seeing him staring blankly into the world. Occasionally I would find him with some object or another, muttering to himself about a way to kill himself with said object. Darry and I agreed after the second time this occurred that he wouldn't be allowed by himself.

He rarely slept; he stayed up for most of the night, sitting up in bed and staring off into who-knows-what. I had to practically wrestle him to lay down, and even as I fell back into darkness, I knew he was still awake.

It didn't exactly help that I was pregnant and could barely feed myself. I guess it's good Darry's fiance, Annalise, was living with us now. Funnily enough, they met in jail, and I guess once she got out she hunted him down somehow. I was just grateful for the extra help.

Annalise proved that, despite being in jail for numerous accounts of selling drugs, she wasn't all that bad. Darry was twice her size in height, but that's what made them compatible, I suppose; she always relied on Darry to get things for her, and in return, Darry could rely on her to be the sweetheart she was. It was almost disgustingly cute.

For a long, long time, the wedding Soda and I had planned was put off out of trying to get Soda back to reality and for me to...well, not be pregnant. By the time the subject came up again, Molly had already given birth to her daughter, Piper; the little one was clearly her mother's child, but had her father in the smallest of ways. Her hair was dark and long like Pony's, and the day she came into the world, Soda commented on how she had Pony's eyes—a sharp but dark gray-green.

Not too long after (seven months, to be exact), I ended up in the hospital completely alone. Darry and Annalise were out at dinner, Molly was home with Piper and Soda was at work. I hated myself for dialing his number, but being as the nurses and doctors asked if I had a husband and wanted a name, I had to.

The moment the twins came into the world, I knew I loved nothing more. I knew that as Soda came barging into the room, sweating from probably running the three and a half miles it took to reach the hospital on foot, I loved nothing more than this moment. I knew the moment that Soda came for me, pressed a kiss to my lips and then took his son into his arms that I loved nothing more than the three of them.

I listened to silence for two years after that; but it was a blissful silence, one that I knew would come to an end at the sound of wedding bells.

* * *

 **One more chapter after this, and then it's the epilogue.**


	13. Chapter 12

**This chapter was practically already written one week ago as of Sunday. I had to add a few more things to it so that it's perfect. I decided to finish it before I went to bed tonight, so here it is!**

 **HERE WE GO, GUYS. THE CHAPTER I HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR.**

Chapter 12:

Sparks and Sunlight

 ** _Kat_**

The idea of marriage was something Kat never thought would happen to her. She'd planned to live her life alone; at the head of the Mafia with Molly at her side. A life alone was what she thought was best, for both herself and for those she had power over. Her father used to say that a life lived alone was the best life, for you'd have no one to rely on but yourself.

Did she plan on ruling over the mafia one day? Not particularly.

Did she plan on getting Molly off of the streets, away from her shit-hole of a life? Not particularly.

Did she plan to be venturing into the woods, keeping things straight between her people, when she heard gunfire and ordered a surrounding of the area? Not particularly.

And did she plan on having to deal with, and therefore meeting, Soda? Not at all. And did she plan on falling in love with him, only to one day come to this?

She wished she did; God, she wished she did.

A low whistle sounded behind her. For a moment she froze, fearing it was Soda himself; but as she turned, she saw Molly standing there in her own little bubble of beauty. Kat sighed, genuinely in awe of her friend—genuinely saddened for her, too.

She'll never have this, Kat realized as Molly came forward and placed her hands in Kat's, squeezing lightly with a small smile. She'll never get this, but she'll always have him. She'll always have Pony.

"You look like a million bucks," Molly stated cheerfully, though there was a plume of sadness flickering behind her upbeat mood.

Despite herself, Kat turned and looked at herself in the long mirror she'd been facing a moment ago. She hadn't looked at her dress, her face, her eyes... but now, seeing it all in the full and sheer beauty of it all, she realized that this was what she'd been waiting for. She'd waited so long to finally have this moment, even though she'd been against it for most of her life.

"He's a lucky guy," Molly added as she looked Kat up and down, the sadness growing just a bit bigger inside of her gaze.

Kat smoothed down her dress and blinked, coming back to reality. "I'm just as lucky," she whispered, imagining Soda beside her in that moment, imagining his reaction to her. "Maybe even luckier."

* * *

 ** _Soda_**

"How the hell do you tie these things?"

Soda looked up from where he stood at the bedroom window to settle his eyes on Two-Bit, who was fiddling with his tie. A grin grew on his face as Two-Bit groaned in frustration and fixed his shirt collar, grumbling, "Forget it. I ain't wearing a tie."

"You're a dipshit, you know that?" Steve came into Soda's view from within the bathroom, and he hastily crossed the room to where Two-Bit was standing. He took the tie from Two-Bit's hand and started to loop the fabric together along his neck. "It's called a tie for a reason."

"Both of you can shut your traps." A sarcastic yet stern voice echoed through the small hallway from the closet. Soda breathed a heavy, grateful sigh at seeing Darry appear from behind the closet door, rolling his eyes. "You wouldn't know how to do that"—he gestured with his hand at Steve—"if I didn't show you beforehand."

Soda stuffed his hands in his pockets as Darry's eyes met his. Pride burned brightly in his green eyes, with a small bit of regret mixing with it. Then, he was suddenly before Soda, taking him into his arms in a hug. Soda could feel the regret and pride and sadness and happiness all running off of his brother, crashing into him like a wave.

Darry pulled back and smiled down at Soda, and for once, he felt like a little kid again. Back when Darry smiled like mad, no matter if it was to him or to Pony. Back when Darry, Pony, Soda, Steve, Two-Bit... everything was in a sense of normalcy.

Now, it was much more different. Yet, it was a better different.

"We gotta go," Steve broke the sweet, loving silence with a sigh. He looked at Soda, who met his gaze with all nervousness. "Well, you do, at least."

As he started to push himself off of the wall, Darry put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. "Don't leave the room, kid." He murmured, a flash of pain going through his eyes. "It's not good for you to see the bride before y'all go down the aisle. Let me do it."

And then Darry was walking out the door, calling to him, "I'll make sure she doesn't run off!"

* * *

 _ **Kat**_

She'd been in this place, this church, probably a thousand times. She'd walked along these corridors, looped between the pews, and danced around the large, oversized columns that held the place together probably a thousand times.

But on her wedding day—the most important day of her existence—she felt like a stranger to the halls that had been her safe haven for her entire life.

To Kat, seeing him at the end of the aisle was one thing. Seeing him before the whole thing went down, allowing them time to be together, to admire each other, to touch and to kiss and to be just enveloped in one another was more important to her than she'd ever imagined.

So when she saw a tall, dark-haired figure standing in the center of the church, surrounded by a light that only radiated off of Soda himself, she ran to him with everything she had. Using the space between his arms, she looped her own through and pulled him close, resting the top of her head between his shoulder blades. The figure started to turn, and as she pulled away to look at him fully, the eyes that stared back at her were not her groom's.

"Thanks for the hug," Darry said casually with a grin. Kat, having no other idea in mind, playfully smacked his shoulder and breathed out a laugh.

"Shit," she cried with a sigh, putting her hand on her forehead as if to wipe away sweat, "I thought you were Soda." The words echoed off of the hollow walls, which were soon to be silenced by crowds of people.

"I told him not to come. Thought it would be bad if he saw his bride before you walked down." He inclined his head towards the aisle, that of which seemed rather far away even though they were standing at the end.

Kat smiled at the sober gleam in his eyes. Despite having been released from prison not even a day ago, he looked alive; more than she'd ever seen him. "I guess you're better than no one at all." she murmured, wringing her hands together.

"Mhm," Darry agreed quietly, still staring at her. His eyes were traveling up and down her body, and for a moment, Kat was ready to sock him where it hurt. There was a saddened yet a proud tone in his voice as he said three words. Three words that made her body rush with an overwhelming heat and her heart flutter in her chest.

"God, he's lucky."

"Lucky?"

Darry nodded. "Lucky." His serious facade broke and he started to laugh, warm and rich and booming, and it enveloped Kat in a sense of calm.

Both of them were silent for a minute. Kat looked at the ground, and she could feel Darry's eyes on her still. Then, without even realizing it, Kat took Darry's hand and placed it between both of hers, where she squeezed it lightly as if to give him encouragement.

"I love him," she whispered, and when she looked up into Darry's eyes, she could see the pride burning brightly behind his seemingly cold gaze.

"I know," he said, returning the gesture. "and there's no one I can see loving him any more than you do."

She smiled for perhaps the hundredth time that day, but she couldn't help herself. "He makes me feel alive; like I'm soaring in the clouds or something."

"Makes you feel like you matter," Darry stated humbly, "and believe me, you matter so much to him."

Kat leaned forward and wrung her arms around his neck, pulling him down to her level. She felt his hands go to her back, where he lifted her into a hug and stood there, holding her with some sort of security like feeling rushing through her body. Regretfully, she felt Darry lower her back onto the ground and pull back to look at her one last time before he said:

"He'll be here this time."

* * *

 ** _Soda_**

The church was completely full of people; of faces he knew and faces that he'd never seen before. There were shouts and cries of joy being thrown around the room from every direction, and from where he stood, Soda was pretty sure none of those were for him.

"You ready?"

Soda turned and saw Steve, Two-Bit, and Darry all standing before him. Each pair of eyes was burning with pride and surprise and love and every emotion in between; and as he took in all of it, he murmured, "I kinda have to be, don't I?"

Two-Bit cracked a grin and laughed lightly. His smile was one of pain to see his friend heading into a new life, but it was also one of happiness for that same reason. "Guess so," he agreed, stepping forward and embracing Soda. From beneath his vest, Soda could feel Two-Bit's heart pounding, and when the two pulled away to look at one another, Two-Bit was looking close to breaking down.

"Hey," Soda said, shoving him playfully, "This means I don't get to go out with you looking for broads anymore."

That made Two-Bit laugh for real, and he shouted loud enough for the four of them to hear, "Ain't that a shame!"

Steve came forward with a quick "you cocky son of a bitch" and also took Soda into his arms, slapping him on the back. "You did well, man," he said proudly, his eyes bright with pride in his best friend, "You did well."

Soda didn't need to say anything to Darry. There was enough shine to his eyes and enough pride in his walk that should Soda say anything, Darry would collapse into a mess. With a brittle nod to his younger brother, Darry murmured, "Time to go, brother." His voice was low and heavy; almost as if he were fighting back tears. With a nod in response, Soda turned back to the double doors that would open on his approval.

He suddenly had a thought, and turning, he looked back to Darry and said, "Bring her home, Dar, if I somehow get too drunk to drive tonight."

Darry scoffed wholeheartedly at the remark, rolled his eyes and grinned at him. "You are her home, kid. She's coming home."

He couldn't stop himself from stifling a sob as the doors opened and his footsteps fell upon the candle-lit aisle.

* * *

 ** _Molly_**

"How did you know you loved him?"

Kat's question startled her, getting her mind out of its trance. She looked to her left; there, Kat stood poised and regal, almost like she was royalty. She wasn't asking out of curiosity; the burning passion and determination in her eyes let Molly know that she wanted to know out of genuine honesty.

She thought back to when she'd first met Pony; back when he was so small, so afraid, so child-like. It hadn't even been two years since it all happened, and here he was, going off to war and fighting for something other than himself. He was so small and fragile back then; so sensitive, that even the slightest raise in someone's voice would bring him to his knees and beg for forgiveness.

He'd become a man in the last year and a half. He'd become a soldier. He'd loved her with everything in him and she loved him with everything in her...

and in the end, she spread his ashes along a riverbank, so that he could further his journeys without her in the afterlife until she, finally and wholly, joined him.

"I knew"—she paused and took a shaking breath—"I knew when Kai nearly paralyzed him, of all things and of all situations to fall in love. I knew when he was bruised and bleeding and was crying out so loud I thought it would never stop. I knew when he'd asked for Soda to come into the room before I gave him what he needed..."

She was suddenly laughing; laughing with all she had in her. "There was a night when I'd made Soda leave to go get some sleep, and Pony ended up moving and waking up. I was the only one in the room, and he looked like he was going to scream, so I silently stood by his side and let him do what he needed to. He swore, he cried, he screamed... It was awful, imagining the helplessness that he must've been feeling.

He'd asked where Soda went, and I told him I sent him out to get some sleep. I thought he would've gotten angry, but he didn't. I guess he kinda knew that Soda hadn't slept since that whole thing went down. I stayed with him each night while Soda spent the day with him, and over time...

I guess it just kinda developed. There wasn't any set place or time or moment where it happened; it just did. I told Pony one night, during one of the talks in which he would constantly say he couldn't sleep because I was in the room, that he was gonna be okay. That I was gonna heal him with everything I could. I'd watched him slowly prop himself up on his elbows, and smirking sheepishly at me, he'd muttered cockily, "I think I'm gonna like that you're in here at night, Molls."

She shrugged and pushed it all to the back of her mind, sniffed back tears and dabbed lightly at her eyes where tears might've slipped. She looked back at Kat and smiled weakly at her, murmuring, "I knew I'd fallen in love with him when he was broken because I knew I could fix him. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. I guess it worked, didn't it?"

Kat beamed at her. "It did indeed, Molls."

* * *

 _ **Darry**_

The expression on Soda's face was one of pure, genuine happiness. There was no stopping the grin that had basically replaced his usual smirk, and the light in his eyes was one that Darry hadn't seen in a long time.

A warm and inviting silence suddenly fell on the hall, and Darry avoided Soda's excited glance towards him and instead focused on other end, where two men, dressed in tuxes (as were all the men in the room), were pulling open the large, pure white double doors. The slow pace of Kat's shoes hit on the tile floor with a soft but echoing click, and Darry watched as everyone stood and turned their attention to the most important person in the room.

Perhaps his eyes were deceiving him in that moment in time, but he swore he saw Soda stumble forward, as if he was wanting to run to her. Darry took note of how Soda's entire body was shaking, and whether it was from excitement or nervousness or a combination of the two, he wasn't sure. He watched as Soda suddenly ducked with a hand over his mouth, and immediately Steve bent down to him, putting a hand on his shoulder and talking to him slowly. For a moment, Darry thought his brother might've been getting sick, but when Soda rose again and wiped at his eyes with the back of his sleeve, he shoved the idea out of his head.

"She's coming, Soda," Steve hushed with a laugh, nudging his best friend on the side affectionately. "Just give her a sec." Soda hastily glowered at him but did as he asked, trying to slow his breathing and silence his whimpers of awe.

The entire room seemed to be holding its breath, and at the halt of Kat's shoes on the tile, signalling the end of the aisle, it exploded into a vibrant, warm sigh. People situated themselves in their seats, and Darry watched as Soda laughed heartily at Steve's "you can take her now, she came" and stepped down onto the floor of the hall.

Soda's voice suddenly broke into Darry's subconscious, bringing him back to reality. He was speaking softly, but when Darry looked to him and their eyes met, his voice rose as if it gave him encouragement. "There was a point in my life in which I wasn't sure if I would ever get here"—he gestured to everyone around them and grinned—"or that I would ever meet someone as brilliant and amazing as you. I've had a lot of thoughts and doubts about marriage, but they've never been about you. Everything I am and everything I have become...it's all happened because of you. And so I stand here, at the end of this aisle, so blissfully happy that you're right in front of me, about to be my wife."

There was a long pause after he finished; Darry first thought that Kat was at a loss for words, but actually, he was just trying to compose herself. He saw his brother's bride take a breath, to which the world seemed to slow, and recite her reply.

"I've never been one to be lovey-dovey and all, but you're a special person, so I guess I have to." The hall lightly hummed with laughter at her words. There were clear, barely contained tears in her voice as she continued, her entire being glowing with happiness and genuine beauty. "I love you; man, I love you. There's nothing more in my heart than love for you and love for us and what we've been through. From the moment I met you, I didn't think we would come to this—I didn't think I would be standing here, on this day and at the church I grew up in, about to marry you. I didn't think love was possible, nor that I was capable of loving someone. But you've showed me things I never knew, and you've shown me a side to myself that I never knew. You've taught me how to love and live...and I know that through everything, you'll always continue to amaze me."

And as they were declared husband and wife, Darry could tell that out of everything Soda had been through—all he'd lost and all he'd given up—it didn't matter so long as Kat was beside him, stepping with him through each new journey and letting him forget the past ones he'd been trying so hard to leave behind.


	14. Bonus Chapter!

**I suppose you could call this chapter 13 or whatever, but it's technically a bonus chapter. It features Molly, and from what you can probably guess, it's gonna have a lot of feels. I've put a lot of myself into this one; so most of her thoughts and feelings are my own if I was in this situation.**

 **Enjoy!**

Chapter 13/Bonus Chapter:

Out of the Woods

Molly

She saw him everywhere.

Whether it was at the dinner table or at the DX or simply in bed, she saw him. She saw him and she felt him and she knew he was there, and yet he wasn't.

He was a ghost, and tonight, she must've wanted to catch him. For she ran and ran for what seemed like forever, chasing and calling to him, hoping that he would hear her, see her, and stop.

"Pony!" she hollered as his soul, his body, whatever it was disappeared behind a tree. She quickly picked up her pace, weaving between trees and nearly tripping over roots and stumbling over her own feet. Her heart pounded in her chest and her breathing was quick with both excitement and exhaustion; she felt adrenaline yet tiredness fleeting through her body. Her feet slipped and slid on mud that was beneath them, but even so, she pushed on.

There was rustling within a cluster of bushes, and with it, Pony's soul appeared again, completely unfazed by the leaves and twigs that would've stuck to human skin in all of this rain. Molly kicked her legs harder and practically flew off the ground, calling out to him again. "Pony! It's me, Molly!"

She was gaining on him; his body was slowing, as if he were wanting her to catch up. She quickly braced herself to leap at him, to tackle him and hold him to the ground, but as she leaped and tried to grasp at his ankle, his spirit left her again, leaving her alone in a clearing that was too dark and too lonely to be in by herself.

"Don't leave me!" she called and cried to the rain that fell upon her body, making her clothes seep with water and her hot tears mix with cold. "Please, don't... don't leave me... not again... not after what happened to you..." Her rage, which was unbeknownst to her until that moment, suddenly boiled over and she was pounding on the ground, screaming with all of the air in her lungs as sobs came down on her like the rain. "You said you would come home to me! You said you would come home no matter what! You promised me! You promised me that...and look where you are!"

A rumble of thunder shook her body. It was loud and booming, and with that, a low chuckle sounded behind her. She whipped her head around, her hair clinging to her forehead as she stared, wide-eyed, at the presence before her.

"I might not be home in the real world," Pony's voice was soft but low; lower than what she'd heard when he left home. It was deep with sorrow; as were his eyes. "But I'm home now, aren't I?"

Her body knew what to do before her mind did.

She made herself stand and face him, still in shock. There was anger that bubbled through her, but it wasn't completely overtaking her body like it had not a moment ago. There was pain that rocketed through her as she took a step forward, and then another, then another, going faster with each one.

The pain seemed to take her forward and she was suddenly in his arms, sobbing and feeling like she was dying. It would've been proper to die then, because that way they would be together; no longer would she have to wait until she dreamed or hallucinated to see him. He would be there, at the end of life and death, and only then could she really be with him.

But he felt so real.

Even with his skin being as cold as ice, he felt real. His eyes, which looked at her with the utmost amount of sadness and regret, felt real. His hands, resting on her hips and holding her close to him, to feel his body heat and to just simply be close in proximity felt real.

"You're alive," Molly murmured quietly, her mind clouding with memories and images and just flooding with him. She placed both of her hands on his chest and stood with her head bowed, staring at his dark gray shirt as if she could see something...feel something beyond it.

Pony's voice was deeper; not with sorrow or any emotion...just deeper. "No... I'm—"

"You're alive, you're alive..." she repeated the words like they were the only syllables she could think of. "You're alive and I love you and—"

"Molly."

She looked up meekly, staring hopelessly into his eyes and wondering why. She was always wondering that; even their daughter, the two of them intermixed in a small, fragile little baby, silently wondered why.

His eyes were dark with worry; worry for her sanity, no doubt. "Stop this," he said quietly. "Stop thinking of me...at least for now."

"No," she countered grimly, shaking her head wildly. "I won't. I can't."

"You're not well, Molls," Pony tried to reason, but she kept her guard up in her eyes, showing that she wasn't going to back down. "Why can't you, at least for a little—"

"Because I have to keep you alive." Her words fell on the silent clearing, and nothing made sense after the words left her lips. "I have to keep you alive for our daughter and for everyone else's sake as well as my own, because I can't..." she trailed off, averting her eyes as to not let him see the tears that were filling her gaze.

For a moment, Pony didn't say anything. His heart, which was nonexistent to anyone but the two of them, seemed to quicken beneath his cold skin. "We have a kid?"

He seemed surprised, which made Molly look to him once more and nod. "Mhm," she said, a small smile growing on her face at the thought of her, sleeping just in the corner of their room. "We have a daughter. She was born just before—"

His hands went from her hips to her back as he embraced her tightly, and for a split second, she forgot that she wasn't dead and he wasn't alive. The laugh that escaped him was too warm and too familiar; it shook her entire body as he shouted delightedly, "I have a kid! I have a kid!"

She couldn't help but laugh herself as he set her back on the ground, sighing with a glow to him. His eyes were bright with love and awe at their gazes locked, and even still his hands kept her close. "Her name is Piper," she murmured happily as tears, both happy and sad and regretful, ran down her face. "She has me as far as looks, but..."

Her throat seemed to close and she shut her eyes, allowing a flood inside of her to break. "Oh, Pony... she's just like you in everything else. I see her in you and I see you in her. She's got your hair—it's long and it's soft and it's oh, so beautiful. She's got your bright smile and loud, sometimes annoying laugh. She has your eyes—such a dark yet mesmerizing green with a silver streak in her pupil... She's just rawly and utterly yours as well as mine."

The back of his hand delicately traced along the side of her face, and despite herself she leaned into the warmth of it, not wanting it to leave. He continued to do that for some time, and as her body calmed, he spoke lightly and timidly.

"Keep her that way," was all he said, and she opened her eyes to the cold darkness of the riverbank.

"Molly? What are you doing out here?"

The voice made her scream, crawling along the grass in a heated attempt to get away. The voice shouted her name after her and didn't even bother going down the hill where she was; instead it leaped off of the dead grass and onto the ground, following her. The closer it got, the more Molly screamed and tried to clamber to her feet to escape.

"Molly, Molly!" The voice suddenly had a face; it was Darry, who must've heard her leave the house or something. "Molly, for Christ's sake... calm down!"

She didn't listen, for she continued to holler and shout up until Darry put a hand over her mouth and looked at her worriedly, getting to his knees so he was closer. "Hey, hey, Molly... you're okay. It's me—it's Darry. You're okay."

For a long while, she stared at Darry in the cold dirt, her eyes darting wildly between trees and his face. She could feel her lips quivering, her body shaking, and finally tears staining her face as she began to cry and cry and cry, hating herself to feel something that felt so real and to have it taken away.

Darry delicately put his arms around her and lifted her into the air, carrying her in his strong hold and whispering quietly to her the entire way back to the truck. Soda and Kat were there, and when they saw Darry's broad form rise from above the hill, they quickly climbed out and made their way towards them as Darry set Molly upright, keeping his arm around her as she leaned heavily against him.

Kat's hard eyes were before her, and her hands seemed to pet Molly's face worriedly, brushing her hair back and looking her over. "Molly, what the hell—" she started to reprimand, but Soda jabbed her in the side.

"Piper; where's Piper?"

Silence fell on her daughter's name. It was almost as if no one wanted to speak; almost as if she wasn't even there.

"She's in the truck," Soda said bleakly. His voice was thick with protection for a child that wasn't even his, and it angered Molly.

"Let me see her," she demanded, and when no one made a move, she pushed herself off of Darry and took a step forward. "Let me see my baby!"

Kat, Darry, and Soda all shared a look. "Get her," Darry ordered, and with that Soda took off in the direction of the truck. She watched with narrowed eyes as he opened the door, pushed the seat forward and gathered a small, feeble child in his arms.

The moment that Piper noticed her, she started smiling. Molly's heart warmed at the sight of her child, so like her and so like Pony, as Soda laughed softly and made a cooing sound to her, which made Piper, who was so tiny and didn't know one emotion from the next, let out a loud giggle.

 _Keep her that way._

Pony's words echoed in her head as Piper was suddenly pressed against her side. She looked down at her daughter and saw nothing but her eyes—his eyes. His dark green eyes with a small silver streak in the pupil.

Behind her, Pony's ghost smiled proudly.

* * *

 **The epilogue is next, and then book three!**


End file.
